Page 31 of Sack

Was he hurt? “Pain?”

“Your little speech made my dick so hard, my jeans are cutting off circulation.”

“Oh.”Oh.

“It’s taking all my control not to pull over to the side of the road, throw you in the backseat, and fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

“I wouldn’t be against that.”

She finally got his eyes. “Fuck, you’re killing me.” He moved his eyes back to the road. “We’ll be home in less than five minutes.”

Slumping back into her seat, a small smirk tilted her lips, and she spent the rest of the trip to Colt’s house enjoying the smooth ride.

Because she had a feeling the rest of the night would be deliciously bumpy.

She hadn’t been wrong.

The garage door hadn’t even finished closing by the time Colt was out of the car and opening her door. He pulled her out, but instead of ushering them into the house, he blocked her within the small space. His hands gripped the sides of her head, tilting it back, and he was kissing her.

Her reaction to his first kiss hadn’t been a fluke.

Heat instantly filled her, causing a whole-body shudder. Grabbing hold of the first thing she could find, her hands landed on his hips. She pulled him closer. Or maybe he moved in. Either way, she soon found him pressed to her.

But that wasn’t good enough for either of them because, without breaking contact with her mouth, his hands moved to under her arms. He shifted her down the car, lifting her until just her tiptoes touched the ground, andpressedinto her.

Hard metal at her back, a harder man at her front, she was a very happy Ivy sandwich.

He ripped his mouth from hers, his breathing harsh and gaze intense. His eyes traveled over each feature of her face only stopping when they reached her lips. He licked his. “I want you naked.”

And because she wanted that, too, the only thing she could think to say was… “Yes, please.”

Chapter Seven

Colt

Stooping slightly, Colt swept Ivy into his arms and cradled her against his chest. Her arms circled his neck, her fingers locking in his hair. He knocked his hip into the passenger door, closing it as he passed.

“I’ve never been carried before. Well, I’m sure I was as a baby and small child but never as an adult.”

“Then you’ve missed out.”

She pulled her head back a little to look at him. “On being lazy?”

He navigated the door leading into the house. “On kissing while being taken to the bedroom.”

If she intended to reply, he didn’t give her the chance. He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue seeking the taste he craved.

The taste of Ivy.

In the bedroom, he set her on her feet, only breaking the kiss to lift her t-shirt over her head. He was met with the swells of her breasts, showcased by light blue satin and lace. He cupped them with his hands and buried his face in her cleavage. He was a breast man, and she had a damn fine set. Licking along the edge of lace, hugging the swells of her tits, his dick throbbed, asking to be released from the tight confines of his jeans. But he had a more pressing matter at hand—stripping Ivy from the rest of her clothes.

He was desperate to see her. Touch her. Taste all of her.

He flicked open the clasp of her bra, pulled the straps down her arms, and tossed it to the floor. Her nipples puckered, begging for his mouth. He would give them his full attention later. In the meantime, he gave one a flick with his tongue on his way down to his knees. He undid the button and zipper on her jeans and tugged them until they pooled at her ankles. When she stepped out of them, he hooked a finger in the leg band of her panties and slipped another one in the gap.

She made her first sound—a gasp—as his finger sank into her heat.

His dick twitched, and he ripped open the button-fly of his jeans, giving it much needed relief.

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